Creative Writing Student 2020

Paged between our biggest memories

are the little things we let slip by;

tiny, unimportant fragments, they say

The type of thing you’d forget the next day.


But I’m standing here, struggling, I fear

With the thought that I don’t know what I’m missing

Are they mistakes

or To-Do lists?

Missed appointments

or life-changers?

Past lives

Or unlearned lessons?


Clearly we don’t know what it is we’ve unconsciously let go.

Though I’d really like to know,

Is there really a story to the image in my mind?

Was our argument truly awful…

or is my rage completely blind?

A fraction of myself





far from the rest of my completed ideas.

When there are so many days I’d much rather forget,

it seems unfair that what I recall tends to make me upset.


But perhaps I’m better off the way I am.

Whos to say that the void swallowed my happy memories?

When it could’ve, just as well, feasted upon the nightmares I’m sure I had

-the ones that force you upright but are hollow inside.

Cold sweats with no memories

do they even count?

I am disturbed

By the desire to burn

every last detail inside

To the back of my mind

Because one day I’ll forget what I’ve written, I fret

Regardless of how long I ponder the…  … … ponder the… ponder the… … .. .